


a happy mistake

by mixtapestar



Series: a promising vacation [6]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Beast (The Magicians), Bodyswap, Established Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sort Of, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: Quentin and Eliot accidentally botch a spell.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: a promising vacation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964122
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	a happy mistake

**Author's Note:**

> For Comfortween Day 28: Supernatural Problems (spell mishaps).
> 
> Thank you again, Rubi! Also, huge thanks to the Peaches & Plums server for helping me brainstorm this one. ;)

Quentin can't remember a time he wasn't studying for finals. What was it like, to leave his room? To interact with his friends? He at least sees Eliot, for study sessions, sleep, and sometimes a little bit more, but his anxiety-riddled mind doesn't leave much room for the little bit more.

Eliot is helping him practice heat transference in his room when it happens. They run through the steps of the spell, Quentin focusing hard on the circumstances, and a spark shoots from their hands when they meet in the middle. Quentin gasps, or maybe it was Eliot, and they both stumble away from each other. Quentin grabs at his knees, feeling off-balance, and with a bit of vertigo still swirling through he looks up to see… himself.

"Oh no," he says, but it's not his voice he hears. He looks down at his hands and finds long, slender fingers that, while very familiar, are not his own.

"Fuck," Eliot says with Quentin's voice, looking up at him as he straightens, up, up. "That definitely was not supposed to happen."

Quentin runs his hands down his long frame, marvelling at the way Eliot's clothes fit against his body, like he's meant to wear them. He never would have considered Eliot's outfits comfortable, but they certainly feel that way. Eliot shudders across from him. "Fucking bodyswap, El. This is like, the most classic sci-fi trope."

Eliot rolls his eyes. Huh. Does Quentin always look so petulant when he rolls his eyes? "Of course that's the first place you go." He rubs his hands against his thighs, and Quentin swears he can feel the heat. "Think a little _harder_ , Q. Anything you might want to try, in this predicament?"

His—Eliot's—cock twitches in his jeans, and the possibilities suddenly seem endless. "Oh," he says, letting his mouth fall open, and then he reaches down to rub across his groin over his jeans.

Eliot moans across from him. Of course he's that vain, watching his own body touching himself. But the look he gives Quentin is fierce, calculating. "Do that again," he orders.

So Quentin does, feeling the shape of his cock beneath the material and rubbing the heel of his palm deliberately down the length. It feels good, but nothing as good as the moan Eliot is making would indicate.

"Oh my god, just. Hang on, I have a theory. Put your hands behind your back."

Quentin does, bewildered, and watches Eliot unzip the old, faded jeans Quentin had pulled on in a sleepy daze this morning. He pushes them down along with Quentin's boxers over his hips, licks his palm sloppily, then fits his hand over Quentin's dick.

" _Oh my god_ ," Quentin says, lurching forward as the grip of Eliot's hand feels like it's _on him_ , god, that warm, wet heat of his fist sliding perfectly over his cock. The relay is unreal, his dick twitching in his pants at the pleasure, and when he reaches down to touch himself, Eliot responds just as enthusiastically. "Okay, okay. Pants off. This is— _fuck_."

"Yes," Eliot agrees, shaking Quentin's pants off over his ankles. He flops down on the bed while Quentin is still wrestling Eliot's skinny jeans over his legs, and Quentin swears he can feel the softness of the comforter against his ass. When he joins Eliot on the bed, he leans over to kiss him, and has to close his eyes immediately. But _oh_ , that's nice, the same lazy makeouts they're used to, feeling like they're happening in stereo as pleasure pings from both sides of the bed. It's like part of his senses went with his body and part stayed with his mind.

Experimentally, they reach across each other for their own dicks, or—those attached to their own bodies. But it's too weird, no better than masturbating, nothing like feeling Eliot's hands on him without knowing what's going to happen.

"This is fucking weird," he says, staring back into his own eyes as he palms his dick and sees Eliot's hips jerk.

"Yeah," Eliot responds, mirroring the action to make Quentin bite his lip. Quentin had never realized his voice could get that husky. "Feels really good, though."

"I'm gonna close my eyes. I can't—it's weird, to look at myself." He loves the feel of Eliot's body under his own hands, though. He lets his fingers slide over his neck, his chest, his abs; everywhere he's paid special attention to Eliot's body, but right now it's his own. He catalogs the sensations absently— _oh, that's how that_ really _feels_ —but mainly loses himself in the press of his hands.

"You look so gorgeous, all turned on, though," Eliot says, squeezing at the base of his dick and stroking, slowly.

" _Fuck,_ " Quentin says, as he feels the slide of Eliot's hand both physically and mentally. With his eyes closed, it's hard to know for sure who is doing what. "Rather be surprised," he gasps out, licking over his own palm and taking his cock in hand. It's weird to suddenly have a huge dick, even with Eliot's ridiculously long fingers to go with it. He's hard and leaking, and every last inch of him aches with a need to be touched. He wraps himself in both hands and lets himself go for it, pulling himself off the way he does when he doesn't have much time, when he's so turned on that it can't wait.

" _Holy fucking god_ , Q, what are you doing to me?" Eliot gasps out. The intensity of Quentin's arousal spikes off the scale a few moments later, as Eliot starts working his cock with a similar eagerness, grunting and gasping as Quentin moans. The combined sound of them almost seems normal, but the overwhelming sensation around Quentin is anything but.

It seems inevitable, in retrospect, with this weird, mirrored magic, that they would come at the same time. But it still feels special, magical, in a way that standard spells never quite manage. Quentin feels his heartbeat in his ears as he rides the waves of pleasure, still stroking himself through his orgasm while across from him, Eliot does the same.

"Amazing," Eliot says a moment later, breathless.

"Yeah," Quentin agrees, wiping the come from his chest and licking his fingers. It tastes different, on this tongue, than what Quentin is used to. Still pleasant, but different. Eliot whimpers next to him.

They fall into a kiss, and Quentin slides his fingers into Eliot's hair the way that Eliot always does to him. The long strands feel silky-smooth under his fingers; he can see the appeal. They pull back and stare at each other for a moment, smiling goofily.

"I guess we should probably switch back, for now," Eliot says, sitting up to face him.

"How in the hell did we get like this?" Quentin asks, following his lead.

"I think it's my fault," Eliot says, with a blush over Quentin's cheeks. "We were trying to do heat transference and my mind was on a different kind of heat."

"Oh," Quentin says, a little bit shocked. Eliot usually performs magic so effortlessly. If there was some kind of mistake, he figured it was because of him. "Do you think… we could do it again? Some other time, when I'm not panicking over exams?"

Eliot's smirk looks strange on Quentin's lips. "Only if you promise not to act like your body is something that should be disregarded. You're completely sexy, you know."

"I look better with your confidence," Quentin admits, stretching his fingers and bringing the circumstances from before back into his mind.

Eliot shakes his head. "You look better with _your_ confidence," he clarifies.

"Okay, well. We'll see."

Once they go through the motions, sparks flying as they slide back into their own bodies, Eliot leans into his space. He tilts Quentin's head up with two fingers under his chin. "We _will_ see," he repeats with his eyes dancing, and then moves forward to kiss Quentin passionately.

**Author's Note:**

> Blanket permission for other writers to use the 'Inspired by' function and write your own take on how they use this spell. What happens when they go into separate rooms with it, teasing, taking their time? What's it like when they try out other sex acts? How does Eliot use this opportunity to convince Quentin how sexy he truly is? Go wild! Link me!
> 
> Comments are appreciated, as always! <3


End file.
